The latest releases from experimental Norwegian label SOFA are very much on the cutting edge of musical discovery, or how our environment or things we take for granted can be manipulated to provide entertainment or a new aural experience.
For his latest release, Norwegian composer Jan Martin Smørdal has teamed up with Øystein Wyller Odden, stepping out from his post-punk roots to prepare two pieces that are composed for self resonating piano, alternating current and strings. It is a fascinating premise in which they fit the piano with vibrational attachments which are then plugged directly into the Norwegian national grid and the resulting fluctuating current causes the piano to resound. Providing the string musicians with voltmeters enables them to follow the current, inputting and withdrawing as needed and following the fluctuations.
The two pieces, both approximately half an hour in length, are replications of specific times on 1 June 2019 and it is intriguing to think that that moment in time is captured in such a unique way. It jumps straight in with a distant screech, but has a clean sound with a purity that sits right within the sweet spot of your ear. The tone is constantly changing, often by minuscule amounts, but always searching for a way forward, the insinuating insistence, the rapid evolution never wild but ever flowing. It is an unstoppable force that is replicated by strings but never overpowered by them. The subtlety of Smørdal and Odden’s playing is a testament to their understanding of the premise; although at points, a battle-scarred bagpipe-type atmosphere is reached and you can almost see beyond the confines of Oslo City Hall.The strings feel more apparent in the second piece, ebbing and flowing like a metallic sea, all-surrounding and all-consuming, never at rest. It is hard for the listener not to be consumed by it and the impression of somehow being cast adrift in a salty ocean, unable to sink but with no sign of escape is exciting. At times you can pick out the single instruments on Kraftbalanse, but generally they move as one and to really enjoy, it is best to just sit back and allow it to overwhelm.
In contrast, label boss Ingar Zach‘s Musica Liquida is the first document of his Vibrating Drum project, in which vibrating speakers in contact with the membranes of drums provide the sound used to construct the pieces.
A hush slowly rises, a flow of energy that moves through the room, an increase in tone with the constant rustle of movement. The room feels alive with the pattern of wheels on rails and what sounds like a cymbal bowed, growling, gradually advancing and receding. A subtle but insistent motion and in the distance a sense of slow dawn, light gradually suffusing the drama of the ever-increasing tone. A gap allows a reset and things turn edgier, more violent in between the bars of silence. It grows angrier until its final unleashing.
As an opening gambit, “Mercurio” covers the premise but so much more, surprising the listener, leaving them to marvel that it all comes form such humble ingredients. The second piece is more febrile, echoing corridors and shadowy corner abound. Tones appear from the the hidden recesses of the room and this section feels more about exploring those darker places. It is a little more intense, with the constant drone added to by irregular thumps. To contrast again, the final piece is more of a lullaby, a gentle steel drum rhythm is a kind of salve to the sealion shrieks and surges of metallic sound that share the motion. But as it all retreats, the final, undulating coda is something to wash the light throughout the room and leave peace in the mind of the listener.SOFA’s remit seems to be expanding our understanding of recorded sound and with these two releases, they have succeeded beyond expectation. The CDs look great, with artwork from Stephen O’Malley, and these two releases are essential if your interests lie in the progress of musical consideration.
-Mr Olivetti-
